


Something Smells Fishy

by AppalachianApologies



Series: Appalachian's 2020 Whumptober [3]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Concussions, Hurt Spencer, Hurt Spencer Reid, Hurt/Comfort, Some random unsubs, Spencer Reid Whump, Spencer gets smacked around in the head a bit, Whump, Whumptober 2020, also concussions, also we got lesbian emily, badass lesbian emily prentiss, but i want you all to know that she has a LOT of lesbian vibes, just a lil bit, like it has absolutely nothing to do with the story, ohohoh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:00:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26794774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AppalachianApologies/pseuds/AppalachianApologies
Summary: The CIA needs the help of the BAU, but something feels... Strange...Day 3: Held at Gunpoint | Forced to Their Knees
Series: Appalachian's 2020 Whumptober [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948174
Comments: 20
Kudos: 278
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Something Smells Fishy

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly really liked how this story came out, and I'm super excited to share it with you all!! :D (In other news, writing this prompt made me metaphorically slap myself with a broom until I stopped thinking of and writing backstories for unsubs because it's 3k words! Stop making backstories, me!)
> 
> Enjoy! :D

Spencer figures that he should’ve guessed something would go wrong when Strauss herself came to deliver a case.

With the entire team sitting around the round table, Strauss stood with a manilla folder, reporting that the CIA needed their help. Looking around at confused faces, she explains that a group the CIA had been following landed themselves in Michigan.

“Why do they need our help then?” Morgan asks, the question on everyone’s mind.

Sighing, Strauss answers, “They want to bring in as many people as they can peacefully,” Spencer squints, but doesn’t say anything. The CIA isn’t known for taking people in peacefully. “They have negotiators, but no profilers.”

“And a negotiation is nothing without a profiler,” Rossi finishes, silently wishing that he was working on a book instead.

“What do we know so far?” Hotch asks, looking through one of the files on the table. “How big is this group?”

Looking almost bored, Strauss answers, “Their guess is around forty or fifty people,”

Spencer takes a file for himself, spending a few seconds flipping through all of it before asking, “Why is everything redacted?”

“Not everything is redacted,” Strauss muses.

“Everything important is.”

With raised eyebrows, Emily points out, “There’s no way we can build a profile with this information,”

“You’re flying out to Michigan today. The CIA wanted to brief you in person, rather than through files.”

“Are they worried about a mole?” Rossi asks.

Shaking her head, Strauss sighs, “I’m not sure. They’re just being extra protective, I suppose.”

Spencer’s face scrunches up. Something doesn’t feel right to him, but he can’t quite place it.

“When are we leaving?” Hotch asks.

“As soon as possible.”

Standing up from his chair, Hotch declares, “Wheels up in twenty.”

The flight over is surprisingly uneventful. The team would typically begin their profile, maybe have Garcia looking up possible suspects or witnesses, but that isn’t the case right now. With nothing to go off of, the BAU is stuck 30,000 feet in the air simply waiting.

Emily, Morgan, JJ, and Spencer all spend the time playing poker with packets of peanuts and microwave popcorn. In a strange effort to stop Spencer from counting cards, Morgan takes four decks of fifty two, shuffles them all, and then only takes half of the stack for the game. 

Strangely, it works. 

However it doesn’t help anyone else either.

For the first time in months, there’s almost no tension in the jet, and it’s a nice change for everyone.

Michigan is cold and foggy, and the team is glad to finally get inside of a cash-only motel where a team of CIA agents have set up.

After confirming their identities on both ends, the other agents begin animatedly describing the situation. The BAU listens intently, but Spencer is quickly frowning after only a few minutes. Looking around, Hotch and Rossi have the same intuition, small frowns forming in the corners of their mouths.

Emily has her arms tightly crossed across her chest, and JJ has a smile that’s a little too tight to be real. Morgan’s brows are crumpled, obvious distrust radiating from his figure, mimicking the rest of the BAU.

After a few tense moments with silence, Rossi is the first one to blatantly ask, “That’s great, boys. Mind telling us the truth?”

All ten CIA agents stare him down, before the seemingly leader of them chuckles. “I guess there’s no point trying to lie to profilers, is there?”

Spencer automatically looks to Hotch, trying to gauge what his plan is. Unfortunately, before Hotch can bark out any orders Spencer is jerked backwards by a forearm around his neck.

“Let my agent go,” Hotch says, voice stone cold and unwavering.

“Mmm, no. I’m fine,” The man behind Spencer answers easily.

The rest of the BAU’s eyes grow wide, and when Spencer tries to turn to the side, he sees why. The faux agent holds a hypodermic needle, and all of the blood drains from Spencer’s face.

“Nobody move,” Another one of the “CIA” agents booms, “Or your cute little agent here will get a needle in the neck.”

Spencer closes his eyes for a quick second, telling himself that he’s fine. He’s not in the cabin. It’s probably not even heroin in the needle.

But, oh God, what if it is?”

When he opens his eyes again, the rest of his team is suddenly at gunpoint, all of their own weapons set down in front of them. He feels helpless, being held hostage by a simple little needle, barely six inches in its entirety.

A few of the imposters pull out their own vials and needles, making Spencer’s eyes grow wide. “Hotch!” He shouts, ignoring the arm crushing down on his windpipe.

Helpless, Spencer watches as his Unit Chief spins around, knocking a needle out of one of the men’s grasp. His thoughts are suddenly pulled when he feels a prick against his neck.

“Spence!” JJ calls, which distracts Hotch, eyes finding his youngest agent.

The imposter uses the distraction and pulls the syringe from the floor, before jabbing it into the side of Hotch’s arm.

In a short flurry of activity, Emily snatches her gun from her feet, discharging a single round before she’s pushed to the ground. Morgan and Rossi attempt to do the same, but the men tackle them to the ground, pressing the needles into their thighs.

Gray fades around Spencer’s vision, and the man lets him go. He collapses to the ground on his hands and knees, watching the rest of his team fall from his helplessness, Spencer wants to scream and shout.

He drops down to his elbows, and a second later his cheek greets the dirty motel room floor. Spencer barely has enough time to think about all of the different types of bacteria living in the carpet before he’s fallen fully unconscious.

*

When Spencer wakes, it’s cold. 

He’s been stripped of his FBI jacket, and there’s concrete underneath the side of his face. 

Despite the fact that his hands bound behind his back, Spencer is able to kneel, bringin the upper half of his body up. It takes a few seconds for his vision to clear.

“Reid?”

Quickly turning his head, Spencer sees Hotch’s concerned look from where he’s cuffed to a pipe. 

“Hotch?” Spencer echos. “Are you alright?”

In lieu of an answer, the Unit Chief responds, “They drugged us with a sedative.” With a tired sigh, he continues, “I woke up earlier, so they cuffed me here,” 

From the floor a few feet away Rossi snorts, “‘Should’a played dead. Works with bears, works with murderous unsubs.” After a few moments, he also pulls himself off the ground.

Glaring at the pole he’s cuffed to, Hotch questions, “Have you been awake this whole time?”

“Few minutes. Same with Morgan,”

On Spencer’s otherside, Morgan groans. “I just woke up, old man.”

“‘Old man’?” Rossi questions with a smile, “You’ve been sleeping in!”

Finding the figures of Emily and JJ, Spencer asks, “Are they alright?” Nodding to their forms.

“They got dosed with the same amount.” Hotch answers, knowing that Spencer will make the connection. The two women are smaller than all of them even if Spencer barely weighs more than Emily. He figures his height and metabolism helped.

The four sit in a tense silence before Morgan can’t help himself but asking, “So was Strauss in on this?”

Answering at the tail end of an exhale, Hotch replies, “I don’t think so. The real question is how much of the CIA are part of this group.”

“Probably more than we think,” A quite groan answers, and all of the men turn their hands to find Emily pushing herself up. She got the luxury of being cuffed in front of her body, rather than behind. A quick glance to JJ tells Spencer that she also got lucky. “Where are we?”

“Still in Michigan,” Hotch reports. “Don’t know where though.”

“Great,” Emily murmurs, attempting to brush hair out of her mouth, making a face when it sticks to her lipstick. “Is everyone okay?”

Grumbling from annoyance, Morgan answers, “Just tired. And in Rossi’s case- grumpy.”

Before the two can begin their family bickering, JJ wakes from the commotion.

She quickly finds Spencer’s eyes and questions, “Spence?”

“I’m okay,” He answers. “How are you feeling?”

Taking stock of her body, after a beat JJ answers, “Cold. Where are we?”

“Somewhere in Michigan,” Hotch answers, pulling on the pipe. “They made a mistake keeping us in the same room. We need a plan.”

Rossi nods, already shuffling over to Hotch to figure out how to get him off of the pipe. 

Unfortunately, before they can do anything, an angry metal door opens, revealing one of the fake agents from earlier.

“Good evening, agents!” He greets, waving a gun around.

Spencer frowns. That isn’t very good gun safety. 

“Okay!” He exclaims, obviously giddy with the entire BAU confined to a room. “I honestly wish we had more time to talk, but now that you’re all awake, it’s time to die!”

Emily rolls her eyes and murmurs underneath her breath. It’s only loud enough for JJ to hear, but based on her hidden smile, it’s probably in their best interest that the man didn’t her her.

“Really?” He asks, “Nobody has any objections?”

“Didn’t realize we were allowed to object,” Morgan drawls, “Because if that’s the case, do you mind-”

Before he can finish, the man interrupts, “Yes I mind! Everyone sit up! On your knees!”

“Why?” Emily shoots right back, eyebrows raised.

Shooting a bullet into the ground next to her, he barks out, “Because I said so!”

Uninterested, she asks again, “Why?”

JJ sucks in a breath. This is getting a little too close to home regarding Henry and his toddler years.

“Because if you don’t, I’ll kill you!”

“Well, you’re going to kill us anyway,” Emily points out, “So I’m just confused to why,”

“Just do it!” He barks out.

Spencer feels a bit awkward, already on his knees, watching as the rest of his team begrudgingly pushes themselves up until they’re leaning back with their butt on their heels. Everyone, except for Emily.

“You think you’re so clever?” The man sneers, continuing to wave his gun.

Tilting her head to the side with a smile, she replies, “Yeah. I think so.”

He replies with a growl, “This’ll teach you,” Then, to her horror, he stalks towards Spencer rather than herself. Without any hesitation he swings the gun around, slamming the butt into the youngest agent’s temple.

Falling to the ground, Spencer can’t help but wonder, ‘Why me?’ Before he’s smacked again, sending black sparks and stars across his vision. The man raises up the gun once again before Emily quickly interjects, “Fine, fine! I’ll kneel down, you fucker.”

“Good!” He shouts in relief, standing up. He gives the pistol a little spin, and Spencer cringes. The safety is still off, there’s a good chance he’ll accidentally discharge the gun at this rate. “The BAU has caused me  _ so many _ problems, did you all know that?”

Rather than answer his question, Hotch tries, “I’m the Unit Chief. If you have a problem, you have a problem with me, not my agents.”

“Oh, no, no, no.” The unsub laughs. “I saw how buddy-buddy you all are with each other. I’m taking you all down. One. By. One.”

He then stalks over to Emily and crouches, rubbing the gun against the side of her face. Emily looks him dead in the eyes with a disinterested face. 

A devilish smile, he declares, “I’ll start with you first, annoying bitch.”

Hotch sucks in a breath from the otherside of the room, drawing the attention back to him. However on the way back, the unsub’s eyes find Spencer, still awkwardly lying on the floor.

“You need to sit back up!” He cries out, taking the gun away from Emily. “It needs to be perfect, so you need to get back on your knees!”

Spencer sees a sideways Emily wink at him, before he gurgles out, “I-I can’t. Not with my hands behind my back-”

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” He shouts, turning his entire body to face Spencer. “You’re so fucking weak you can’t even-”

He’s cut off as Emily spins her legs around, hitting the back of his ankles. The man stumbles backward, and JJ takes that as an invitation to move, kicking out her own legs until he falls flat on his ass.

Using her cuffed hands, Emily gives an awkward two-handed punch to his nose, grinning when it bleeds. She gives another punch, and his eyes roll back in his head. “Fucker.” She adds for good measure.

Close to the discarded gun, JJ quickly crawls over to pick it up, easily inspecting the amount of rounds left.

Spencer finally pushes himself up, although not without a groan. 

“Reid?” Hotch questions, worry laced in his voice.

“‘M fine,” He grumbles, more annoyed than anything else. “Did he ‘ave the keys?”

“What?”

“‘S h’ndcuff keys,” Spencer clarifies, ignoring the world which is surely spinning around him.

Padding through his pockets, Emily solemnly answers, “I don’t think so.”

Bringing up the palms of her hands to her hairline, JJ points out, “I have a few bobby pins in my hair. Can you...?”

“Yep, yep,” Emily answers, awkwardly sifting through her teammate’s hair with her hands forced together. “Okay, got it. Hold your hands out,” Between the two of them, it only takes a minute for them to discard their handcuffs, rubbing their wrists.

Emily quickly frees Morgan, before turning when she hears Hotch’s worried cry.

“Reid?”

Her eyes find Spencer listing sideways, eyes glazed over. JJ jogs over, just barely managing to catch him before he falls completely over.

Still holding the bobby pin, Emily uncuffs Spencer before doing the same for Hotch and Rossi. Hotch crouches next to Spencer, and wordlessly JJ hands over the gun.

“Reid?”

As a reply, he just groans out, “‘Ncussion,”

Before he can reply, Morgan asks, “Hey Hotch?” Alarmed.

It takes Hotch a few extra seconds because of his bad ear, but sure enough he hears a small stampede of footsteps, presumably wondering what’s taking so long. “Get him to the side,” Hotch instructions, motion to Spencer. “Then get by the door. We’re going to have to get them with a blitz, and there’s only,” He pauses, inspecting the gun, “Three bullets left.”

Spencer falls limply against the wall as the door bursts open. Tiredly, he watches as his team each takes on their own armed guard. He hears a gun go off once, twice, three times, and he knows that it’s Hotch’s weapon.

The world fizzes out for what feels like only a second, but suddenly someone’s tapping on his cheek encouraging him to open his eyes.

“Jayje?” Spencer slurs, squinting.

Pulling him up around her shoulders she nods, “Yep. C’mon Spencer, we gotta go,”

“Where?”

“We’re sneaking out.”

“‘Kay,” Spencer answers, swallowing down nausea.

Wherever they are seems to be a twisted labyrinth of walls, and each turn makes Spencer more dizzy. Ordinarily he’d have a bit of fun in this maze, cataloging each of the passages, but right now he can barely focus on the path ahead of him.

The team moves as a single unit, Emily and Hotch with new weapons, presumably from the guards they took down, leading the front, while Morgan and Rossi hold up the back with their own weapons. In the middle, JJ is awkwardly holding a stumbling Spencer up.

They take a sharp right, and Spencer trips on air, clutching onto JJ for balance. “C’mon Spence, we’re almost there,” She soothes, holding on to him even tighter.

Sure enough, a few seconds later, the six of them burst out into open air, the cold midnight air hitting them like a wave.

“Shit,” Morgan mutters, looking at the expanse of forest. It’s thick with pine trees, needles littering the forest floor along with other foliage from bushes.

Pointing out a dirt road, Hotch instructs, “Stay parallel to the road until we find the highway. Don’t get too close to it though. We don’t want to be seen.”

Taking in a sharp breath, Rossi calls out, “Aaron,”

Hotch turns around, instantly frowning. Leaning against JJ and a tree, Spencer throws up the little food in his stomach. It’s mostly coffee, a disturbing color that’s a bit too close to blood for his liking.

“Reid?” Hotch questions, putting a light hand on his back, “You going to be okay?”

Straightening back up, he murmurs, “Mmhm. Don’ feel good,”

“We’re done with the hard part. We just need to walk now.”

Spencer gives him a look akin to fear, but nevertheless puts one foot in front of the other. Silently, Rossi and JJ pull his arms over their respective shoulders.

After barely ten minutes of walking, Spencer’s head bows down, focusing on nothing but his shoes and the rocks they stumble over.

Five minutes after that, he trips and would’ve fallen if it weren’t for JJ and Rossi. Morgan quickly helps hold him up. “Pretty boy?”

“‘Urts,”

“What hurts?”

“Head hur’s,” He slurs, eyes threatening to close. 

He feels fingers along his temple before Morgan murmurs, “Shit, it’s swellin’ up pretty bad,”

“We can’t be too far from the highway,” Hotch frowns. “Reid, do you think you can still walk a bit longer?”

Spencer forces out a, “Yes,” Before the real answer can come out.

By the time they can see headlights, Spencer’s eyes are only open to slits, not even taking in the world around him.

When Hotch and Emily wave down a car, Spencer collapses, exhausted and in pain. JJ sinks down with him, not bothering to keep him up.

“Hey, Spence, stay awake for me, okay?”

“‘M awa’,” He mumbles, before promptly falling asleep.

*

Unsurprisingly, he wakes in a hospital bed. 

“You got hit on the head pretty hard there, kiddo,” Rossi says from his left side.

Looking around, Spencer finds everyone in the BAU in various positions on hospital chairs, all asleep, save for Rossi.

“How long was I out?”

“‘Bout twenty hours,” Rossi replies, nonchalantly.

Unsure of how to respond, Spencer settles with, “Oh. Hey, Rossi?”

“Yeah?”

“Do they have Jell-O?”

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know about you guys, but I love me some concussed Spencer :) And tomorrow, we have more concussions- so that's something to look forward to!! Also- I didn't know exactly how I wanted to end this, so it's a bit... strange... but, you know, it works, right?
> 
> I'd love to hear your thoughts on whether or not you guys liked this trope (I know I do hehee), or even what's on your mind! Come talk with me on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/appalachianapologies) (AppalachianApologies) if you'd like! I'm always so down to meet new people :D
> 
> I love you all very much, and I hope you all are doing okay. If you find yourself in a bad or scary situation, here are some hotlines (Please keep in mind that the written out numbers are US hotlines)
> 
> National Suicide Hotline: 1-800-273-8255  
> National Sexual Assault Hotline: 1-800-656-4673  
> National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-7233
> 
> If you don't live in America and need someone to talk to, here's a list of [international hotlines.](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_suicide_crisis_lines)  
> You are not alone, and I love you all <3
> 
> Much love to all of you, and take care until tomorrow!! <3


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